"Remus, can I have a word?" Harry had just finished breakfast and had rushed to the werewolf's side, gently grabbing his elbow, though he wasn't sure why. "Of course," Lupin answered happily. Then he got glance of the worry in Harry's face. "Come to my office," he added, a sweeping gesture of his hand indicating that Harry should lead the way. Ever since the incident in London, Remus Lupin had been keeping a very close eye on Harry, concerned that the young man was trying his magic too much in his attempt to conceal his paralysis.
"Tea?" he asked, once they were seated at his desk.
"No, thanks," answered Harry, smiling at the stability a simple offer of tea from Remus Lupin seemed to bring. It was the same thing with Dumbledore and his candy, Ron and his chess, Hermione and her study sessions. Snape and his sarcasm.
"How's the internship coming along?" Remus asked, guessing that it would be easiest to take the long way to whatever was bothering Harry.
"It's fine. Until last week, we were working together on some defensive potions, healing medicines, things of that sort. But than I melted a cauldron and he banished me to teach his third years and do library research," Harry laughed.
"Really?" Remus asked, eyebrows threatening to break union with his brow. "Severus doesn't trust you with his potions equipment but he does trust you with bumbling teenagers?"
"I was surprised too, but I'm glad for it. To tell you the truth, I sabotaged myself."
"Why?"
"It's just that Severus has been harboring a few dozen snakes in his lab for a few weeks, harvesting potion ingredients and testing out that line of anti-venoms he's been working on on the side. I can't stand it," Harry admitted.
"Squeamish?"
"No, they just keeping hissing at me. Say they smell the enemy on me, whatever that means," Harry grumbled.
Remus wanted to ask more, but sensed how uncomfortable the subject was making Harry and instead asked him how he was enjoying teaching.
"Oh, it's going as well as could be expected. But the doubles with Gryffindor and Slytherin are…exasperating," Harry finished lamely.
"Exasperating?"
"Yes. In that 'pain in the arse' sort of way," Harry grinned.
"Because of the bickering?"
"That, and the stares. The Gryffindors look at me like the lost messiah, and the Slytherins look at me like…I don't know. Dinner maybe."
"Is this what's bothering you?" Remus asked, noticing that Harry had long ago stopped squirming in his seat.
"No, I only wish. No, listen Remus, I haven't mentioned this to anyone yet, and I know I should. I should run straight to Minerva and Severus and even Dumbledore, but I want to know exactly how bad this thing is. It'd make me feel better," Harry said, words spilling out so fast that it made Lupin's heart race just trying to keep up.
"I understand, Harry," he said calmly, despite being overwhelmed by the feeling that whatever Harry was about to say would be something that would inevitably sway the outcome of the war, and not in the direction he would hope.
"Five days ago, I tried to change into a falcon. And it didn't work."
"You couldn't transform?"
"I didn't say that. I transformed all right. Into an owl."
"But that's impossible! Isn't that impossible?"
"Everything I've read would suggest so. Maybe Minerva can tell me otherwise. Maybe I wasn't paying attention and, after all, a bird's a bird. But then the next night, I was a rabbit."
"A rabbit?"
"Then a house cat. Then a goat. Then a horse. Then…"
"Harry, where does this end?"
"Remus, do you know what a Nundu cub looks like?" Harry winced as Remus's teacup fell to the desk, painting a stack of 6th year papers a weak khaki.
"Please tell me you're mistaken," Remus half whispered, half moaned.
"All I know is that I looked like a kitten but was the size of a rhino," Harry answered, unable to keep the escalating panic out of his voice.
"Where were you when this happened?" Remus asked sharply, pushing himself out of his chair so he could direct his nervous energy into pacing.
"Don't worry," Harry answered, "I was in the potions room. That place is warded, sealed airtight. No one's been sick."
"Thank god for that," Remus mumbled, before stopping and staring Harry dead in the eye. "Have you-"
"Yes," Harry interrupted, taking a guess at what the professor was about to ask. "I woke up in bed one night and the sheets were covered with fine white hairs. I think I've been changing in my sleep, without even trying or noticing."
Remus slumped into his chair, and for a moment, Harry hated him for that defeated look in his eyes. They were both silent for a moment, and then, "Dumbledore!" Remus announced rather loudly, standing, grabbing Harry firmly by the upper arm, and dragging the younger man towards the Headmaster's office.
"Remus, what -,"
"I know he's been keeping something to himself about you, Harry. He doesn't agree with the theories Severus and I have come up with concerning the actions of Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair. For days I've seen something brewing in his eyes, and I'm guessing that you're the main ingredient. Circus Peanuts!" he shouted at the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's door. Harry shuddered, remembering the time he had consumed an entire bag of those vile things at a football game. He'd given the poor slob in front of him a dye job resembling Ron Weasley's orange hair, and barely escaped with his balls intact. No, not a good memory.
"Remus, please slow down when you take the turns," Harry panted, his stomach curling in knots from the effort of willing himself to be weightless, from the quick pace his friend was guiding him at, from the tension of the entire situation, and from the phantom memory of way too much sugar.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Remus answered quietly, feeling adequately chastised for forgetting that Harry wasn't just some…balloon. They had slowed to a reasonable pace by the time they reached Dumbledore's office, and were shocked to find that Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, and Sirius Black (a.k.a. Wynn) were all there, apparently waiting for them.
"Take a seat, Remus, Harry," Dumbledore greeted solemnly.
"I take it you already know?" Remus asked, sitting down next to Wynn, the desire to be close enough to his friend in order to restrain him a rather endearing habit in Harry's eyes.
"Yes, we have wards in the castle that alert us to the presence of creatures with an M.O.M classification above XXXX," Dumbledore answered. Turning to Harry, he asked for details on all of his recent attempts at animagus transformations.
"I've also reason to believe that I've been transforming in my sleep," Harry concluded, after repeating the same story he had given to Remus. "What's going on?" he asked.
"It appears that there was an undetected agent on that blade Macnair got you with," Severus snapped, obviously angry with himself for having failed to seen it. Of course, it would have helped if he had been privy to all the information that Dumbledore had been holding on to.
"Do you know what it is now?" Harry asked.
"Something close to a magical steroid," Snape answered.
"But why," Harry began, only to be silenced by a searching stare from Albus Dumbledore.
"Harry, for reasons of your safety and, in my opinion, your happiness, certain facts about your lineage have been kept from you. I'm afraid it may have done you more harm than good," Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, you are the last living descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Just as Salazar Slytherin passed down a few special gifts to Tom Riddle, so did Godric to you, chiefly a latent ability to shape shift into any other species, magical or no."
"But why would Malfoy and Macnair want to bring that power out?" Minerva asked.
"Do they think it will be beyond his control?" Wynn added.
"It may be possible that Voldemort wanted to make sure that the records are true, for whatever end," Dumbledore answered.
"That would mean there must be a mole somewhat close to the school," Remus sighed, as they were all weary by the constant deceit they encountered almost daily as this war dragged on. "How else would he find out if his theory is correct?"
"He could be expecting us to utilize this new advantage," Minerva answered.
"Well then it was bloody stupid of him to give us such a powerful weapon," Wynn snapped, at least having enough grace to shoot Harry an apologetic smile for the rampant dehumanizing that was taking place in the office.
"And that still doesn't explain why they paralyzed Harry," Remus pointed out.
"You said this was one possibility," Harry broke in, looking at Dumbledore. "What else could this mean?"
"That we have a friend somewhere in low places," Severus answered, shocking most of his audience for being the one to suggest such a hopeful thing. Then the room seemed to explode.
"Lucius Malfoy?!" Minerva shrieked. "If that slimy bastard has switched sides then I'll swallow a bludger!"
"Macnair?" Remus scoffed at the same time. "No one so sadistic would give up all the wonderful opportunities an association with Voldemort would offer."
And Wynn just yelled wordlessly and helplessly, before laughing in the same manner. Harry had to hand it to Severus, he sure knew how to cause a scene.
"Quiet!" Dumbledore broke in, ending the wild gesticulations from that corner of the room. "Severus, will you please explain your theory?"
"First I'll admit to finding it just as far-fetched as you three," Snape began, gesturing to the other staff members. "Only I cannot wrap my mind around Lucius Malfoy acting so carelessly in this matter. Granted, there's not enough evidence to put him into Azkaban, but the publicity alone has led to considerable financial losses in Malfoy's legitimate businesses. Macnair is exactly the type to do something like this and not care about the consequences, as long as he gets some recognition from Voldemort. But the team we have watching the money flow haven't seen any changes in his direction. Besides which, neither Malfoy nor Macnair would have any clue about what to put on that dagger to produce such a reaction. There had to have been someone else involved, and looking at it logically, I doubt it was Voldemort. What does he have to gain from this? He must already be convinced about Harry's heritage. He was sure of it back in '81, and now, with that demonstration of wandless magic in Massachusetts, he must be certain. So why the demonstration? Why help Harry become aware of his gifts, and to make them even stronger? There's no hope in hell of turning Harry, not after paralyzing him. There was no mind-controlling substance on the blade, I've triple-checked this time. There is nothing to suggest that Harry will be unable to control his transformation once he receives some training. So what would Voldemort have to gain by doing this? An even stronger enemy. No, someone must be trying to help us, Albus. I might concede that Lucius went in ill-informed, but I'm willing to bet that the only reason Harry can't walk right now is that who ever was in charge of that poisoned blade wanted to make sure the mission appeared to be a half-triumph so Walden Macnair would be spared, while we are let into the loop."
"Do we know anyone who might be a potions master and a good friend of Macnair or Malfoy?" Remus asked.
"Yes," Severus scowled, obviously finding something distasteful in what he was about to say. "Draco Malfoy."